The Hogwarts Vignettes: Flashbacks and Memories
by molicious261
Summary: The trio decides to finish their final year of school. As graduation nears, and Hermione's graduation speech must be written, the trio remember some of their favorite moments, and find it's not as easy to say good-bye as they thought. R/Hr & slight H/G
1. Prologue

**Title:** The Hogwarts Vingettes: Flashbacks and Memories

**Characters:** R/Hr and Harry of course

**Disclaimer:** Don't own these people or places.

**A/N:** Okay, I started writing this back when the 7th book came out, because at the time, I was entering my Senior year of high school and I was getting all nostagic. This is just the prologue, but my plan is to write a number of chapters dedicated to one of the trio's fond memories of Hogwarts, triggered by someone or something. I can't imagine why they wouldn't want to have gone for one more year, I mean, they love this place. They grew up here. And I just thought that their times there needed to be honored in some way. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and let me know if you'd like to read more.

As the brilliant amber sun descended behind the foreboding trees of the Forbidden Forest, Hermione Granger let out an angry swear. She was sitting in the plush rug of the Gryffindor Common Room, hunched over a long sheet of parchment, scribbling away. Though seeing Hermione poring over a lengthy piece of parchment was not an uncommon sight, the malice with which she was writing was seen as quite odd, particularly to her two bemused companions sitting on the couch behind her.

"Having a bit of trouble there, Hermione?" Harry Potter snorted, watching his best friend scratch out a whole paragraph with venom.

"Shut up," she sighed immediately, not bothering to look up.

"You know Herms, graduation is supposed to be a time of alleviated stress," Ron Weasley chuckled, shaking his head at his girlfriend's agitation.

"Ronald, why don't you make yourself useful, and stick your wand up your-"

"Now, now, Hermione, there are children present," Harry cried, nodding to a group of 2nd Years in the corner. Hermione turned to them for the first time in an hour and looked ready to spew expletives. Instead, she caught herself and let out a defeated sigh.

"I can't do this. I just-I don't know what's the matter with me," Hermione whimpered, casting her quill down and literally drooping. Ron and Harry exchanged glances, slightly concerned.

"Okay, I think it's time for a little break," Ron said, sitting up. When Hermione didn't move he sunk to the floor next to her, and put a comforting arm around her.

"Listen to me," he said, softly. "You are perhaps the smartest woman I will ever meet. Like, ever. You're beautiful and funny and you always know exactly what to say. And even though you're having a bit of trouble now, I know that you're going to write the greatest valedictorian speech this school in Hogwarts history," Ron said, proudly. Hermione looked up at him uncertainly.

"At this rate, I'll never finish the bloody thing," she murmured.

"A brilliant mind such as yours can get tired. Even you need to take a break every once in a while, or your head will explode," Ron explained, earnestly. Hermione stared at him quietly for a moment before cracking an enormous smile.

"How can I argue with such sound logic?" she said, and gave her boyfriend a well deserved kiss.

"You guys are disgusting," Harry laughed, walloping Ron in the back of the head with the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. Ron grimaced and flashed Harry a rather obscene hand gesture. Hermione rolled her eyes and dragged Ron to his feet, taking her place between him and Harry on the couch.

"Okay Hermione, you can settle this. How many boxes of fireworks should we get for our graduation party?" Ron asked. "Ten or _thirty_?"

"Ron, why would _anyone_ ever need thirty boxes of fireworks? EVER?" Harry burst, before Hermione could reply.

"I believe I was asking Hermione, Harry, but I dunno, maybe to have the most amazing party ever!" Ron cried.

"Yeah, the only thing that'll accomplish would be setting your parents' house on fire," Harry snorted.

"Ron, I'm afraid I'm with Harry on this one," Hermione giggled, noting Ron's sour expression. "Here's an idea. Why don't we compromise- we'll get fifteen boxes," Hermione suggested, resting a placatory hand on her boyfriend's knee. Harry merely nodded, grinning, but Ron seemed to being having a minor internal struggle.

"I _suppose _that will do," Ron conceded, sulking a bit, but he perked up as Hermione gave him a soft peck on the cheek. The three of them fell into a relaxed silence, looking past their cozy surroundings into the not so distant future.

"I can't believe it's finally ending," Harry said after a while.

"I _know_," Ron agreed. "It's so weird, isn't it?"

"There's so much to think about now. I mean, we actually have to enter the real world, get jobs, move out… It's more like the beginning really. Very emotional time," Hermione sighed, wistfully. Ron turned to her, his nose crinkled.

"You're gonna cry, aren't you?" he asked.

"What?"

"At the ceremony, you're gonna cry."

"Oh, I am not," Hermione scoffed. "It's merely a natural transition in life, really, it's not even that momentous." Harry let out a bark of laughter.

"Oh, you are _so_ gonna cry," he chuckled.

"No I am _not_! Frankly, I'm insulted. I'm not the type of girl who cries so frivolously," Hermione snapped.

"Who exactly is the type of girl that 'cries frivolously?'" Ron asked, grinning.

Before Hermione could make her retort, a shrill wail echoed down the Girl's Staircase. A sobbing Lavender Brown rushed into the Common Room, and threw herself on the floor in front of the closest armchair. Parvati Patil hurried after her.

"_This is the worst event of my life_!" Lavender screeched, and buried her head in the seat cushion.

"Lavender, it's not that bad. I mean, it isn't the end of the world, it's just graduation," Parvati sighed, plopping down next to her hysterical friend.

"Yes it IS!" Lavender screamed into the cushion. "Everything is changing. Seamus-Seamus is moving to Ireland!"

"Lav, he's always lived in Ireland," Parvati groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, but I always got to see him nine months a year because of Hogwarts! How will I ever see him now? What if he _breaks up with me_?" Lavender moaned.

"He is _not_ breaking up with you," Parvati said, rubbing her back.

"If he breaks up with me, I will kill myself-KILL MYSELF, like Romeo and Juliet," Lavender cried. She continued to blubber despite Parvati's attempts to soothe her. Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

"I rest my case," Hermione smiled at Ron.


	2. The Know It All

Title: The Hogwarts Vingettes: Flashbacks and Memories

Characters: Hermione, Ginny, and the girls. And younger versions of Ron and Harry.

Disclaimer: Still don't own any of these things, though I wish I did.

A/N: I'm pretty sure Hermione seriously does have flashbacks if someone calls her a 'know-it-all.' I mean, that's probably plagued her since kindergarten. But I really think she's proud of the title now and more power to her. Anway, I've also been thinking about writing another story about what happens during their last year at school, prior to this last week or so, and it's really been bugging me if Ginny and Luna would be in their grade now. I figure that most of their class mates would elect to just retake their classes for that year because they had a lot of horrible teachers, but I'm thinking Ginny and Luna would want to graduate with them. I mean Luna missed half of her sixth year though, so I'm not sure if she would be able to, but Ginny was there until Easter, so it's really her that I'm not sure about... opinions? Anyway, I hope you like this. Ron's chapter is next. Enjoy!

Hermione Granger absently sucked on her quill as she stared at the latest draft of her valedictorian speech. She swore, one day Ron was going to kiss her and notice she'd inadvertently tattooed her tongue or something, considering how often she's been chewing on it. This speech was bringing out all of Hermione's vices, and unfortunately, she thought, she had little to show for it. As Hermione pored over the opening paragraph, she felt Ginny Weasley shift a bit next to her. With a sigh, the fiery red head leaned back against Hermione's pillow, and immersed herself in her Herbology book.

"Alright," she said. "What cousin of Devil's Snare is needed to produce Amorentia?"

"The Flitterbloom," Hermione answered immediately, not bothering to look up. She was rewarded with exasperated groans from the bed next to her.

"Hermione, would you let _us_ answer the questions? We're trying to study," Parvati Patil whined.

"_I_ have to study too, and I don't have a lot of time to do it, what with ruddy speech being impossible to write," Hermione growled, staring daggers at her parchment. Lavender Brown let out an obnoxious giggle.

"What's so hard about writing some stupid speech? And besides, you're just going to get an 'O' on everything anyway, like you _always_ do," she snapped. Before Hermione could unleash a stress-fueled torrent of verbal abuse on Lavender, Ginny interjected.

"Oh, shut up Lav. You should be thanking her for giving you all the right answers," Ginny snarled. Lavender pouted, but said nothing, choosing instead to look over some non-existent notes. When Hermione smirked, Ginny rounded on her. "And _you_, would you stop biting that quill? You're going to break you're bloody teeth," Ginny sighed, slapping the quill from Hermione's hand. Looking slightly ashamed, Hermione returned to her speech. Ginny flipped through a few more pages of her book.

"Go on Gin, ask another question," Parvati urged her, her dark hand poised over her notebook, ready to copy down any facts that she didn't know.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Ginny barked. "Alright, what plant produces pods that can cure most magical poxes?"

"The Snargaluff Plant," Hermione spouted, lightening fast.

"_Hermione_!" Lavender cried, fed up. "Would you shut up? _When_ are you going to realize that you know it all?" As Lavender finished her outburst with those three tiny words, it was as if Hermione had plunged headfirst into a Pensieve.

Suddenly, her little first year self was trailing behind a scrawny black haired boy, and an adorable but annoyed red-head.

_"It's levi-_**oh**_-sa, not levio-_**sa**_," the red head was saying, doing an impressive imitation of Hermione's pretentious drawl. "No wonder no one likes her. She's a nightmare, that know-it-all," Ron Weasley complained. Harry Potter and the rest of the stupid little Gryffindor boys all laughed. Hermione felt hot tears sting her eyes as she bustled past them, crashing into Ron's shoulder in the process. _

_Flash_

_A 13 year old Hermione Granger was watching Ron Weasley pack up his textbooks with a gloomy expression._

_"I still can't believe Professor Dumbledore cancelled all of the exams this year," Hermione sighed, wincing as Ron tossed a mound of books into his trunk with bravado. He snorted._

_"Hermione, I thought you'd be glad. I mean you were in the Hospital Wing for a month," Ron said, smiling. "This way your record is still perfect."_

_"Oh _please_. As soon as I woke up I started reading the rest of our textbooks. I was _ready_," Hermione scoffed. Ron stopped abusing his books to stare at her._

_"Wow. You really do know it all, don't you?" he said, the smallest hint of admiration in his voice._

_Flash_

_"Five points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all," Severus Snape said coolly, peering down at Hermione. She lowered her eyes to her desk, mortified. Just as she felt two tears slide down her cheeks, she heard Ron Weasley's angry voice. _

_"You asked her a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?" Ron snarled. There was a pause, as Hermione and the rest of the class held their breath waiting for Snape's reaction._

_"Detention, Weasley. And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed," Snape growled, and returned to his lecture. Ron fumed in his seat, but Hermione stole a glance at him, smiling affectionately. _

_Flash_

_"Expelliarmus!" Hermione cried, sending Ron's wand spinning out of his hand. _

_"Damn it. Lucky shot," he muttered, fetching it. _

_"Keep practicing everyone. You're doing brilliantly," Harry Potter called to his classmates turned pupils. Hermione giggled a bit as Ron dramatically got into the dueling position, grinning._

_"Bring it, Granger." _

_Hermione laughed harder as she scrambled into position. "Stop trying to incapacitate me, Ronald," she snorted._

"_Hey, this is my only advantage," he chuckled. As Hermione prepared to strike again, she was distracted by the pair next to them. The two Ravenclaw boys were huddled together, looking disturbed. Harry was too busy trying to fix Neville, who'd flicked his wand so forcefully he'd stabbed himself in the eye, to help them._

"_What am I going to do, Terry?" one of the boys was saying. "My mum is going to kill me."_

"_I dunno, Ant. I can put it back together, sure. But I can't make it tick again," the boy called Terry said._

"_Expelliarmus!"_

_Hermione gasped as her wand flew from her grasp. Ron gaped at it, wide-eyed. _

"_I-I actually beat you? YES!" he cried, pumping his fist in the air. Hermione found her wand, and approached their neighbors. _

"_Is something wrong?" she asked them._

"_Oh, I just broke my watch on that last round. It's a family heirloom," the boy explained, holding up a golden pocket watch. The knob was off, and a few springs were sticking out. Hermione smiled._

"_I can fix that for you if you'd like," she said. The boy, Anthony Goldstein, raised an eyebrow at Terry. Finally, he nodded. Hermione flicked her wand and the watch was suddenly not only whole again, but ticking better than ever. _

"Thanks_!" Anthony gasped. "How the bloody hell did you do that?"_

"_Are you kidding? Hermione's the smartest witch in the school," Ron's voice said sharply from behind her. He'd apparently ambled over, post victory dance._

"_Hermione? Oh, aren't you that Gryffindor girl? The know-it-all, right?" Anthony asked casually. Ron was about to snap at him, but Hermione cracked a small smile._

"_Yes. Yes, I am," she said contentedly, and dragged Ron back to the practice area._

_Flash_

_Hermione was sitting in the stands of the Quidditch Pitch, her nosed buried in "Quidditch Through The Ages." Harry and Ron had finally forced her to read it, even though she was highly disinterested in the subject matter. As she attempted to finish another chapter, Ron and Ginny Weasley crashed down in front of her, in a heated argument._

_"It counts!" Ginny shrieked. _

_"Does not, you fouled me!" Ron barked, his face turning red. Hermione sighed and put her book down. The siblings were glowering at each other, their brooms clasped tight in their hands. Ginny was holding the Quaffle as though she might chuck at Ron's face, and her ponytail was bobbing so furiously it was making Hermione dizzy._

_"What on earth are you two fighting about?" Hermione asked._

_"I scored a point off Ron, and _he _is claiming it doesn't count," Ginny shouted, rounding on Hermione._

_"That's because it doesn't, because Ginny _fouled_ me!" Ron roared. Hermione frowned, glancing at her book. _

_"How did she foul you?" she asked._

_"She kicked me in the shin!" Ron cried, outraged._

_"Not in the groin or inner thigh?" _

_"No. Why?" Ginny sighed impatiently._

_"Because if it was just in the shin, it's not a foul. The point counts. However, Ginny, I would appreciate it if you didn't maim my boyfriend," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Ron and Ginny blinked._

_"I-I think she's _right_," Ginny said, astounded._

_"Of course I am. They decided on that rule after playing 'anything goes' for centuries, and that Chaser from Puddlemere ended up being impotent after a game against the Tornadoes," Hermione explained, exasperated. Ginny gaped at her. _

_"Bloody hell, Hermione… you are seriously the ultimate know-it-all," Ginny said, in awe. But Ron was beaming._

_"Yes, she is. And she's all mine," he said proudly._

"Hermione!" Ginny Weasley's voice snapped Hermione back to reality. She noticed Parvati and Lavender staring at her, slightly concerned. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"Uh, y-yes. I'm fine," she answered weakly, still smiling a bit from her memory surge. Ginny frowned, looking worried.

"For Merlin's sake, get some rest tonight. That speech is driving you mad," Ginny sighed, shaking her head. Ginny continued quizzing the girls, occasionally casting a curious glance in Hermione's direction, but the know-it-all didn't say another word. She was far too busy reflecting on her strange burst of flashbacks, and the odd mixture of sadness and joy it made her feel. Maybe Ginny was right. She _was_ going mad.


	3. Honestly, Ron

**Title:** The Hogwarts Vignettes: Flashbacks and Memories

**Characters:** R/Hr

**Disclaimer:** If I owned any of these things, I wouldn't be on here right now, I assure you.

**A/N:** So, Ron's a cutie, and he's one of my favorite characters ever, so this was fun. I'm actually sad that we didn't get to see him freak out at the thought of being done with classes for good, because I'm pretty sure he's been waiting for that glorious moment at graduation, where he gets his diploma, to announce that he will never open another academic book again. And then he'd do a happy little dance and leap off the stage. WOO! But I do think that Ron, and Harry and Hermione for that matter, have a very strong connection to Hogwarts, and that would obviously cause some sadness or fear on their part when they finally say good bye. Anyway, I hope you enjoy Ron's little blast from the past revolving around what I consider Hermione's catchphrase. Harry's chapter is next!

"**Honestly, Ron"**

Ron Weasley was flipping aimlessly through the pages of his Transfiguration book, bored out of his mind. He had always detested studying, and now that graduation was imminent all he wanted to do was sleep until he could don his cap and gown. He grinned dreamily at the thought of it, Professor McGonagall handing him his diploma, his mother crying happily in the audience, everyone clapping for him. But there was one small snag in his dream, a nuisance set on dragging him back to reality. And she was sitting beside him on his bed at that very moment.

"Ronald, are listening to a _word_ I'm saying?" Hermione Granger screeched, her almond eyes boring into his vacant baby blues. Ron jumped a bit in surprise, but quickly regained his composure.

"Of course I am, dearest," he said as innocently as possible. Hermione studied his angelic expression for any hints of indiscretion. Apparently satisfied, she broke into a smile.

"Good," she said sweetly, and Ron's heart leapt at his good fortune. That's when his little viper struck. "Then you wouldn't mind telling me what I was just talking about." Shit. Hermione was staring at him, waiting patiently for his admission of deceit. He frowned. Sometimes it was as though she wanted him to lie, just so she would have the satisfaction of catching him. Well this time he wasn't going down so easily.

"You were telling me about Transfiguration," Ron said vaguely, hiding his face behind his textbook. Even though he couldn't see her, he knew Hermione was glaring at him.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, _when_ are you going to start taking this seriously?" she growled, pulling the book from his face so he would be forced to look at her, and fully appreciate her disappointment. Ron grimaced. He was beginning to regret ever asking Hermione to help him study. He hadn't even done it to improve his grade. In reality, it was a ploy to get her to stop obsessing over that ruddy valedictorian speech she was writing. If there was one thing that could distract Hermione it was academia. That, and bossing people around. Namely _him_.

"Aw 'Mione, come on. Classes are practically over anyway, no one cares," Ron sighed, wishing they were already graduates. Then Hermione would finally have to focus on having fun instead of studying._ Perhaps_, thought Ron, they could think of some ways to have fun together. But as Ron saw the scandalized look on his girlfriend's face, he knew that he would not be having any of _that_ kind of fun for a while. He sighed. It wasn't that he didn't _love_ Hermione. He certainly did. It was just sometimes she could be _such_ a nag.

"_How_ can you say 'no one cares!?' Everyone cares, except _you_! This is your future we're talking about," she shrieked. "I mean_, honestly_, Ron." Suddenly, the Hermione in front of him disappeared and a much younger version took her place.

_"Oh _honestly_, Ron," the little first year Hermione was saying. "When are you going to stop playing with those stupid cards and study for Potions?" Little Ron wrenched his Chocolate Frog cards from her stern clutches. _

_"I'll study later, Hermione. And they're not _stupid_!" Ron cried defensively, looking at Harry for support. But all Harry was concerned with those days, was finding Nicholas Flamel. _

_Flash_

_"Honestly, Ron, it's alright," a second year Hermione squealed, trying to restrain him. "He isn't worth it!" But as far as Ron Weasley was concerned, Draco Malfoy had to _pay _for what he just called her. _

_Flash_

_"Oh honestly, _Ronald_," Hermione sighed sharply, cuddling that beastly animal of hers. "Crookshanks is a _cat_; of course he wants to chase Scabbers. It's in his nature." Ron had always loved animals, but as he looked from Hermione's angry face to that monster's yet almost smug expression, he couldn't help but want to punch its ugly face. First it tried to kill his rat and now it was turning Hermione against him. He couldn't have _that_. _

_Flash_

_Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting down to breakfast when Fleur Delacour floated by. As Ron gazed lustfully after her luscious French figure, Hermione's haughty sniff interrupted his reverie. "Honestly, Ron," she said coolly. "Stop _drooling_ or you'll leave a puddle."_

_Flash_

_Ron had certainly had a harrowing birthday, what with him being poisoned and all, but he could not have woken up to a more lovely sight. Hermione Granger, the woman whose poor heart he had broken, was sitting next to his hospital bed, keeping vigil. In his haze, he tried to think of the right words, words that could express even _half_ of his remorse for what he had done, for how he had treated her, and how much he loved her. But before he could do more than let out a groggy grunt, she had launched herself around his neck. He hugged her back tightly, attempting to pour all of his unspoken feelings into that hug._

_Finally, in a quivering voice, Hermione murmured, "Honestly, Ronald… _never_ scare me like that again."_

_Flash_

_Ron surveyed the mass of destruction that once was his Valentine's Day dinner for Hermione. He had meant well, really he had, but he seemed to have a knack for messing things up. It was beautiful when he had first arranged it, with the help of Harry, Ginny, and Luna. He had set up an extra large picnic blanket underneath Hermione's favorite tree (after the spot was deemed acceptable, and "nargle free" by Luna). Madam Rosemerta had been kind enough to supply him with dinner and champagne for the evening; she even threw in golden candelabra to set the mood. George had sent him a box of heart-shaped fireworks, which Harry agreed to set off on the other side of the lake before his evening with Ginny. His sister had even lent him her radio in case Hermione wanted to dance with him under the stars. It all seemed flawless… until they decided to have a drink._

_As Ron revealed their little love nest, Hermione's face lit up. She kept going on about how lovely everything was, and how wonderful _he_ was, and Ron was sure that he had planned the perfect evening. They snuggled up on the blanket, and Hermione let out a happy sigh. Ron pulled the champagne from the ice bucket it was resting in, brimming with excitement. As she beamed at him, he realized he'd never love anyone as much as he loved her. With a zealous flick of his wand, the cork popped out of the bottle and flew right into Hermione's _eye_. _

_She let out a howl of pain, and Ron immediately jumped up to help her, knocking over the candles in the process. The blanket caught fire, and, in a panic, Ron stomped as hard as he could to put it out. The stomping caused the radio to topple over, and suddenly the tender love ballad Ron had put on, changed to "Cauldron Full Of Hot Strong Love."_

_Their blanket was singed, the champagne had gone flat, and the radio seemed stuck on an all-Celestina Warbeck station as Ron tended to Hermione's blackening eye. As he gently applied some ice to it, the pair noticed Ron's fireworks shooting off in the distance. It was like some sort of cruel reminder of how horribly awry the night had gone, Ron thought miserably. _

_"Hermione-I…" Ron started, struggling helplessly to articulate how bad he felt. But Hermione's bruised face was as bright as the fireworks above their heads. _

_Running a hand through Ron's tousled hair, she whispered, "Honestly, Ron, this is the best Valentine's Day I've ever had. Because it's with _you_."_

The vision of his tender Hermione faded into the present-day one, staring at him with contempt.

"Ronald, have I lost you _again_?" she snapped. Ron didn't, or rather _couldn't_, respond. He didn't have a retort left in him after having such a powerful bout of flashbacks. He felt strangely breathless, and simply gaped at her. Ron's odd behavior seemed to startle her, as her expression morphed from aggravated to concerned.

"Ron," she said softly, her voiced suddenly filled with worry. "Ron, are you alright?"

"Yeah," he exhaled finally, wondering why the hell his heart was beating so fast, and why his bloody palms were so sweaty. "M'alright." As Ron tried to steady his breathing, Hermione placed a tender hand on his arm. "H-Hermione?" he stammered. "Is it okay if I just-just hold you for a little while?" Hermione looked a bit alarmed, but she nodded as Ron's arms engulfed her. As he felt her bushy head fall gently onto his shoulder, Ron suddenly wished he never had to leave this place, that they could all just go to this school for the rest of their lives. In fact, he would even suffer a lifetime of classes and homework rather than have to leave his Hogwarts life behind him. He gulped. Now he _knew _he was cracking up.


	4. Harry's Bed

**Title:** Hogwarts Vignettes: Flashbacks and Memories

**Characters:** Mostly Harry, Ron, and Ginny, mentions and a brief appearance of Hermione.

**Disclaimer:** I wrote _this._ I did not write the thing that inspired it.

**A/N:** Well, I have to say, this was one of my favorite chapters to write, even though I like Ron and Hermione more than Harry. I like Harry and everything... i just like the other two a bit more heh heh... Yeah, anyway, Harry, obviously, is the most invested in this place. And I thought, after the war, he would find one weird minor annoyance to have a problem with, as he tried to get himself excited to leave. Also, I hold the belief that Harry, Ron, and Hermione slept at Hogwarts the night (and day? probably most of it) of the battle, simply because it would be the cruelest thing in the world to make the poor things have to travel to the damn Burrow or Shell Cottage (even though I know they're only a fireplace away) when they have plenty of comfy beds right there. Also, I'm guessing their school friends all had a crazy ass party celebration, but there's no WAY they would be able to stay awake during that. I mean, the three of them were ready to pass out as soon as they got of that blind dragon. They were beat. Anyway, thank you so much for all of the reviews, I really do appreciate them. And I hope you enjoy this chapter. Another Hermione one is next!

**"Harry's Bed"**

As the sound of the alarm clock pierced the air, Harry Potter gingerly opened his eyes. A groggy moan came from his right and knew that his best friend had awoken as well. That's when he heard Ron Weasley turn over and mutter a spell under his breath. The clock shattered into a million pieces, its fragments spilling all over the floor.

"_Ron_," Harry sighed.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled, flicking his wand again and repairing their clock. As Ron clumsily toppled out of bed, Harry reached for his glasses. A blinding pain shot down his neck, causing him to let out a slew of obscenities.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked, taking a break from rummaging through his trunk for clothes to look at Harry.

"My neck is all messed up," Harry groaned, trying to massage it.

"Probably slept wrong," Ron said, stretching a bit.

"You and I _both_ know that's not what happened," Harry croaked darkly, wincing as he sat up.

"Oh c'mon, Harry," Ron yawned. "Are you going to start that _again_?"

"Yes, I'm gonna start this again! This bloody bed is going to be the death of me," he growled, glaring at his friend. Ron rolled his eyes and vanished behind his curtains to change. "The springs are absolutely shot," Harry went on. "At this rate, I'll be a cripple by the time we graduate." Ron's bed curtains suddenly wrenched open and he emerged, fully clothed.

"Look at it this way, mate," Ron said reasonably. "Only one more week before you can set that thing on fire." Harry laughed, feeling a bit brighter. He headed for his trunk to get a change of clothes. Ron checked his watch. "Hurry up and get dressed already. I want to get some breakfast before Hermione begins our _eight hour_ Charms review session," Ron said, looking annoyed at the thought of what Hermione had in store for them.

"Alright, alright," Harry chuckled, snatching his clothes and heading for bed. "Hold on a bloody minute." With that Harry jerked his curtains closed, and suddenly a rush of memories flashed before him, and his eleven year-old self was in his exact position, hiding behind his bed curtain.

_"Hurry up, Harry! We're going to be late for our first class. We've already missed breakfast!" Ron Weasley was calling to him from the other side of the curtain. Harry nervously adjusted his tie. He had never consciously done magic before in his life! What if he was horrible at it? What if they kicked him out for having so little skill? "I'm really hungry… d'you want to split the rest of those Bertie Botts?" Ron asked. Harry smiled. He had never been more anxious in his life, but he had also never felt this happy. Sure, he had never practiced magic before, but he had never had a friend before either. And it was nice to have someone to go to class with, to share his food with. He had also never had a proper room before, like the expansive dormitory he shared with Ron and his fellow classmates. He had never had a real bed either. It was much more comfortable than that cot he had to sleep on in his cupboard at the Dursley's. It was so warm and inviting… it felt like home. Beaming, Harry tore open his curtains and greeted his freckly friend._

_"Ready," he said, almost leaping off the bed. And he was. _

_Flash_

_Harry felt violated as he stared at the wreckage that was his part of the room. His trunk had been ransacked, his end table drawers rummaged through, and all of his clothes were strewn about. Hermione and Ron looked positively horrified as the examined the destruction. Harry looked at his feet; goose feathers from his pillow were lying at them like the remains of a gazelle after a lion attack. _

_"Who would do this?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head, feeling numb. He approached trunk, and looked through his scattered possessions. _

_"It doesn't look like they stole anything," Hermione pointed out, surveying the vast amount of objects on the floor._

_"They did," Harry said, his stomach twisting into a knot. "Tom Riddle's diary is gone." Hermione gasped and Ron let out a surprised swear. Harry sank down onto his messy bed, clutching the sheets in his hands. This was all that he had, and despite the fact that a deranged yet masterful dark wizard was out to kill him, he never felt more vulnerable. _

_Flash_

_Harry was relieved to find Ron in much better spirits than he had been the previous night. That fight with Hermione after the Ball did not leave him in the best of moods as they were going to bed. But Ron seemed to be relatively cheerful as he tore open his presents; in fact, he seemed rather keen on pretending the whole thing never happened. _

_"Harry, one of your presents got mixed in with mine," Ron said, examining a small sack of Bertie Botts Ever Flavor Beans from Fred and George. _

_"Chuck it here," Harry said, setting down the penknife that Sirius gave him. Ron tossed it without paying much attention and the sack fell short. Harry leaned over the edge of his bed to fetch it, when he noticed an odd brightly colored stick. Bending down further, Harry noticed that it was plastic, painted burgundy red and black. After studying it silently for a moment he recognized what it was: the arm from Ron's Viktor Krum figurine. "Ron?" Harry began, staring at it in disbelief._

_"Wha'?" he mumbled through a mouthful of chocolate frogs from Ginny. Harry hesitated. _

_"Er… work on your aim, mate. That was _way _off," Harry said, chuckling a bit, tossing the arm back under the bed. Ron snorted._

_"Stuff it," he laughed, swallowing his food. Harry leaned back against his pillows, shaking his head. Something told him he did not want to get involved with whatever was going on between Ron and Hermione and Viktor Krum. He was perfectly content lying in bed, opening presents, cheerfully oblivious. _

_Flash_

_As Harry pulled his sheets over his shivering body, he noticed Ron was still sniggering as he set the alarm. Harry rolled his eyes and shot him what he hoped was an annoyed glance, but it only seemed to make Ron laugh harder. Harry sighed, turning away from his best friend, barely suppressing his own joy at what had transpired not two hours ago. Cho Chang had kissed him. He couldn't relive that glorious moment enough. Even though she was crying, it was better than he could have possibly imagined. As Ron turned the lights out, a huge grin unfurled on Harry's face. He slowly closed his eyes, wondering what tomorrow would bring. Snuggling up under his warm covers, he drifted into a quiet slumber. _

_Flash_

_Harry felt ready to keel over as he sank down onto his bed, he was so exhausted. Ron and Hermione were already fast asleep in Ron's bed, his arm draped protectively over her. Despite Hogwarts rules forbidding two members of the opposite sex sharing a bed, Ron had down-right _refused_ to leave her side after all that they had been through that year. He wished Ginny was with him, but after losing Fred, he knew her parents needed her presence. After they had all been checked by Madam Pomfrey, and were deemed well enough to avoid a hospital stay, Professor McGonagall insisted they spend the night in their old rooms, as it was far too late and they were far too tired to make it back to the Burrow. He knew that while his fellow classmates were rejoicing downstairs, he needed to rest._

_Harry kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed. His entire body ached, and his brain was completely fried, but he had never felt better. He was finally safe, after seventeen years. Pulling up the covers, he realized he couldn't remember the last time he slept in an actual bed. It felt so good to lie on the soft mattress, to rest his weary head on the fluffy pillow, and to envelop his body in the toasty blankets. He was home, after a strenuous and taxing journey. Shutting his eyes, he cracked a tiny smile. For the first time in years, he knew that there was no danger of terrible nightmares entering his mind. Letting out a sigh of relief, he conked out, finally at peace. _

_Flash_

_Ginny Weasley was waiting impatiently for Harry as he dug through the contents of his trunk for his cloak. _

_"I told you, if you weren't such a mess, we wouldn't have these problems," she said, eyeing the clock. They were supposed to have left for their date in Hogsmeade twenty minutes ago, but Harry couldn't seem to find his cloak anywhere. He grinned at her, tossing another load of junk on his bed. That's when Ginny spotted an old photo album. Intrigued, she snatched it up, and began to examine its contents._

_"Oh, you were such a cute baby," she laughed, studying a picture of Harry with his parents. _

_"'Course I was. I wasn't blind back then," he cracked, adjusting his glasses. Ginny snorted, and continued to flip through the book. Suddenly, she gasped._

_"_What _in the name of _Merlin_ is Ron doing?" she cried, looking both awed and amused. Harry joined her on the bed to get a look at the picture. Ron was struggling to remain calm as a Blast-Ended Skrewt crept towards him, a few different foods in his outstretched hand. Harry let out a bark of laughter._

_"Oh yeah," he said. "That. Hermione, in an attempt to get him to study, bet him that he couldn't go one week without slacking off. If he won, she would have to do all of his homework for two weeks. If _she_ won, though, Ron would have to volunteer to help Hagrid try to feed the Skrewts for a day… I think it's pretty obvious who won," Harry explained. Ginny burst out laughing. "I thought it was only right to get a few pictures commemorating it," he added, chuckling himself._

_"I can't _believe_ I missed this," Ginny groaned, after her laughing fit subsided. _

_"Oh, you should see what happens in the next one," Harry said excitedly. He flipped to the next page, where Ron was cowering behind a large pumpkin, the Skrewt's stinger pointed menacingly towards him. Ginny was hysterical again, as was Harry. "Hermione had to hit it with an Impediment Jinx to get him out of the pumpkin patch," Harry snorted. Ginny smiled, looking over at him wistfully._

_"Harry… do you mind if we stay in tonight? I'd like to finish looking through this with you," she asked. Harry grinned at her._

_"Of course we can," he said, and they leaned back against his pillow. As he watched Ginny look at the photos with fascination, he realized that laying in bed with her, laughing, was far better than any expensive dinner, or night on the town._

"Are you _alive_ in there!?" Ron's voice shattered Harry's burst of memories. Coming to himself a bit, but still dazed, he hastily threw his clothes on. Ripping open the curtains, he grabbed his sneakers.

"Hold on," Harry cried, shoving his trainers on his feet. Ron tapped his foot impatiently.

"Finally," he said, as Harry finished tying his laces. "Let's go." Ron hurried out the door for breakfast, but Harry hung back for a second. Sliding his hand across the smooth sheets, he felt a bit melancholy. It wasn't such a bad bed, really. As he stood up, listening to the creaking of the springs, he felt a tug at his heart. He was going to miss it.


End file.
